Is It Someday Yet?

Dejunk, scale down, downsize, reduce. The pressure started when I turned 60 and has amped up 5 years later as I consider moving. Now I get to deal with all the stuff I have saved in case it would come in handy Someday.

My quest has led me to realize that most of those things saved for Someday are useless to me because, at this point, I can admit Someday is never coming. Helped along by my more realistic view of what I want to do with the last years of my life. For example: The bird houses I thought would be wonderful to create are not going to get built. That frees up 5 years of materials saved for their construction. I’m not going to fix the quilt Gramma made because I detest sewing. I will keep the quilt, in its frayed state, but can certainly pare down the sewing materials to the most basic.

As I work at aging consciously, I am better equipped to decide what I want, and what I don’t want. It’s time to decrease the Someday things, and the stress they can create, to make it easier to focus on what really matters.

But what to do with so many precious things?  Through the process of sorting when I come upon something I think is too precious to give away I ask my kids if it’s something they would treasure. Or put to good use rather than put on a shelf. The guilt that comes with some of the Someday items then gets passed along with the items and is very freeing.

Some things though, like my journals, baby blanket, and once adored stuffed toys, are meaningful only to me. I find many previously loved things no longer have meaning or purpose, and my challenge now is to work at disposing them honourably.  

Some things I do still love, like the heart shaped table my deceased husband refinished, and took immense pride in owning, makes me smile. Another gate-leg table that was a gift to my parents on their wedding day has possible potential in a new home. These things I keep for me now, not Someday.

Fewer possessions mean less time spent on cleaning, organizing, and maintaining things.  Knowing donated items may be treasures to others, or a tax receipt for me, makes it easier to get rid of things like my Mom’s bookcase that requires a lot of dusting.

My downsizing begins in earnest as I contemplate moving. It may not be a much smaller home, but it will be a new chapter in my life, in a new location and a step into my aging that means focusing on what really matters.

By embracing the process of downsizing, I’m making space—physically, emotionally, and financially—for the next chapter of life.

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